TAMING THE F4U corsair

Flight Journal, Oct 2004 by Tillman, Barrett

Trials and tribulations of the bent-wing bastard

THERE WAS GOOD NEWS AND THERE WAS BAD NEWS.

The good news: the U.S. Navy had one of the finest fighter aircraft on the planet. Vought's F4U Corsair possessed unusual speed, excellent altitude performance, good range and a rugged airframe with a superb powerplant. It was the first naval aircraft capable of 400mph in level flight and the equal of any land-based opponent.

The bad news: there was a war on, and the F4U was not ready for sea duty. Taming the Corsair would be a major challenge for carrier aviation.

The Vought Co. of Stratford, Connecticut, had a long history of providing naval aircraft. Its SB2U Vindicator was among the first carrier monoplanes in fleet service. Consequently, the company was awarded a contract for a new fighter in June 1938, and its development proceeded well. The prototype XF4U-1 first flew two years later, in May 1940. Though the "X job" was wrecked in a forced landing, it was rebuilt, and the program proceeded, as the Navy anticipated the need of a more capable replacement for the Grumman F4F Wildcat.

The Corsair was a complex airplane. Its inverted gull wing required special manufacturing techniques, and the hydraulic system was more complex than any previous fighter's. Therefore, the first-production Corsair did not fly until June 1942, but the first Navy deliveries began a month later.

Meanwhile, the all-important matter of carrier suitability was high on the Navy's agenda. On September 25, 1942, Lt. Cdr. Sam Porter logged the F4U's first "traps" on the escort carrier USS Sangamon (CVE-26). Vought engineer Russell Clark and service manager Jack Hospers were aboard to provide advice as Porter made four deck-run takeoffs and landings. All were safely accomplished, but he had a long list on his gripe sheet. Forward visibility-already limited owing to the long nose-was further reduced by hydraulic fluid leaking onto the windscreen from the cowl flap actuators. That problem was easily fixed; the others were not.

The Corsair's tendency to bounce on landing was already known, but it was aggravated aboard ship with high "sink rates" in carrier landings. Additionally, the "dash one's" tail-wheel strut placed the flaps close to the ground, making directional control uncertain. Vought engineers went back to work.

That same month, at the opposite end of the country, Maj. William E. Gise formed Marine Fighting Squadron 124 at Camp Kearney in north San Diego (today it's MCAS Miramar). His unit had been selected to take delivery of the first "fleet" Corsairs, as carrier suitability remained uncertain. It was unaccustomed largess for the Marines usually accustomed to Navy castoffs. The squadron's first F4Us arrived that month, and an enormous amount of work had to be done in a short time, as Fighting 124 was alerted for deployment to the Pacific in January. Company and military personnel combined their knowledge and assets to make the deadline.

By early December, however, despite the heavy workload, it was doubtful that all 24 planes would be ready in time. Consequently, Vought's Jack Hospers set up a modification shop to make the myriad of fixes deemed necessary. As time grew short, the Marine Corps considered canceling the program, but Hospers persisted. The factory kept up a steady flow of necessary parts, and Hospers supervised the Marine mechanics almost round the clock. Gise's men worked 25 days straight and finished on December 28, barely a week before embarking for combat.

Meanwhile, Gise's pilots were still learning their new mount, and the stall-spin evolution was a concern. The airframe afforded plenty of stall warning with tail buffeting and left-wing heaviness, but at low airspeeds, the port wing dropped off dramatically-a serious danger in landing. Power-off with gear down and full flaps, the Corsair paid off at 77 knots or less.

Test pilot Boone Guyton lectured VMF-124 at San Diego and was asked about spinning the Corsair. His blunt reply: "Don't." He noted that the pilot's handbook contained a boldface notice, "Warning: no intentional spinning is permitted." Guyton knew that a one-turn spin could be corrected in as little as a quarter turn; but into the third or fourth turn, the nose dropped, and the spin wrapped up even tighter.

Gise's outfit got to the Pacific in good time, but losses continued. On February 1, 1943, 1st Lt. Ken Walsh suffered a complete engine failure on a high-altitude flight out of Espiritu Santo, New Hebrides. Hoping for a restart, Walsh rode his Corsair down and logged the F4U's first water landing. He estimated that he remained trapped in the cockpit down to 150 feet, and he barely survived the trip to the surface. His U-bird had succumbed to a previously encountered ignition problem: at 29,000 feet, the poor pressurization of the distributors led to total engine failure. Pratt & Whitney understood the situation but had neglected to inform all of its customers. The glitch was easily corrected.

The Navy's first Corsair unit was also based at San Diego. Fighting Squadron 12 "stood up" in October 1942, a month after VMF-124. The skipper was Lt. Cdr. Joseph C. Clifton, universally known as "Jumpin' Joe" for his perennial twitchiness. It was said of Clifton that he was the only pilot in the U.S. Navy who did not require a radio for air-to-air communication. Considering the pirate motif of their airplanes, his pilots decided to call themselves the "Peg Leg Petes," complete with a Disney rendering of a buccaneer with a cutlass, a wooden leg and an eye patch.